


Wolf's Den

by adepressedmeme



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, One Shot, Rough Sex, Serious size kink, Size Difference, Size Kink, Smut, Vaginal Sex, like a really big size kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:42:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26601616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adepressedmeme/pseuds/adepressedmeme
Summary: You know what you're here for ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)Farkas x Female Wood Elf
Relationships: Farkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Character(s), Farkas (Elder Scrolls)/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	Wolf's Den

**Author's Note:**

> I was sitting on his for over a month. I forgot all about it, oops.

It was just a normal day for Farkas when there were no jobs available. Waking up early, getting in some training before breakfast, eating, more training, eating, then socializing. He was growing tired of the same boring routine. Even the jobs they were getting recently were rather lame and only took a few days at most to complete. Most were within the city walls. Pompous milk drinkers hiring muscle to intimidate those they didn’t stand a chance of winning a brawl with. There was little honor in that. 

So when a little wood elf walked into their halls, he paid close attention to her. She was tiny compared to him, barley reaching 4’10 if he were to guess. Her armor was simple leather, nothing fancy. It looked rather worn too. There were two daggers on her sides and a hunting bow on her back. The bow was nearly as tall as her, which made him chuckle a bit. He watched as she looked around, smelling her nervousness. Aela walked to her, pointing her in the direction of Kodlak’s quarters. He may not be an official leader, but he was unofficially in charge of letting others join. 

Farkas, curious about how this would go, made his way to the living quarters. He settled himself at his bar and listened to Kodlak and Vilkas speaking to her. Vilkas was giving her a hard time, which made Farkas rather upset. Having a new face would change things up and possibly cure his boredom, but she would never stay if he was going to be difficult with her. 

It was about half an hour later before he saw her again, having been summoned by Skjor and Aela to show her to the shared living quarters where all the whelps slept. He rushed over to them when they called. The little wood elf was standing in front of them, her eyes wide with curiosity of everyone around her. 

“New blood? Oh, hello. I'm Farkas. Come on, follow me,” he was never one to say much. The elf followed him, having to strain to keep up with his pace. Farkas noticed, finding it rather cute. “Skjor and Aela like to tease me, but they're good people. They challenge us to be our best," he explained, "Nice to have a new face around. It gets boring here sometimes. I hope we keep you. This can be a rough life.” The elf put off a sense of fear that left a bad taste in his mouth at his words. “The quarters are up here. Just pick a bed and fall in it when you're tired. Tilma will keep the place clean. She always has." 

“Thank you Farkas,” her voice was very delicate and feminie, “I am Pengredhel Fernwood.” She extended her small hand to him for a shake. 

“Well met,” he clasped her arm, surprised at how his fingers touched as it wrapped around, “It looks like the others are eager to meet you.” 

He left it at that, not sure what else to say or talk about. He had already spoken more to her than he had with anyone else but his brother in a long time. When she wasn’t scared, she smelt of leather and sandalwood. It made Farkas feel rather aroused, between that and her petite frame. 

Most of the women Farkas fooled around with were larger Nords. The occasional Redguard and Imperial. He hadn’t been with an elf, but that wasn’t from any place of negativity. He just never had the chance. Farkas found himself wanting smaller women like a Breton he met on a job, but he was afraid of hurting her. He found himself thinking about what it would be like to take her, feeling a little ashamed as he just met her and she only said one thing to him. 

… 

The following morning he had breakfast with his brother, who was upset about Aela spreading word that the new blood had given him a thrashing. When Farkas questioned him on it, he didn’t want to answer. Farkas wished he was there to see the fight, because there was clearly something Vilkas didn’t want anyone knowing about. 

Pengredhel climbed the stairs from the living quarters, Ria following behind her. They were both laughing at a shared joke. Farkas was happy to see her settling in so quickly. He waved to her, catching her attention and signalling her to come over. 

“If you're looking for something to do,” he started as she made it to the table, “there’s a small job here in Whiterun that needs to be handled.”

“Of course, what is the job?” She asked, avoiding Vilkas’ glare. 

“Someone wants to hire some muscle to handle a dispute. Here’s the details on this paper,” he handed the note to her, “Just to be clear, I don’t want to hear about any killing.” 

Her eye’s showed her surprise, “I wouldn’t kill anyone.” 

Farkas laughed a bit, but Vilkas was in a foul mood and had to speak. “If you don’t have a stomach for killing then you might as well leave Jorrvaskr now.” 

Her eyes narrowed at him, “I didn’t say I couldn’t kill. You seem to not have a good grasp of your own language.” 

Vilkas was opening his mouth to counter, but Farkas’ eruption of laughter cut him short. Pengredhel smiled at him, before deciding it best to leave before Vilkas could respond. Vilkas, of course, was upset at his brother finding humor with the situation. Farkas finished his food and made his way out for more training. 

It took a little while, but Pengredhel returned to find him swinging his greatsword at one of the straw dummies. He didn’t hear her approach, nor did he see the way her eyes lingered on each muscle that flexed from his back down his arms as he struck the target. She cleared her throat to announce her presence. 

Farkas spun to see her. She gave him a smile and told him she completed the job. Farkas was rather impressed, knowing that she was going to have to brawl a man larger than her. She didn’t have any visible scratches or bruises. He gave her a pouch with the gold for her job, which she marveled. It was clear to him that she didn’t come from wealth. 

Farkas wanted to speak with her, not wanting her to leave his presence yet. He didn’t think of anything fast enough, as she turned and made her way back in the hall. Farkas returned to striking the target, but not before he watched her hips sway as she walked away. 

… 

It was time for her proving. Farkas volunteered quickly, earning a few curious glances from the rest of the circle members as they had gathered in Kodlak’s quarters. Normally Kodlak would have to pick someone, so Farkas volunteering was rather out of character. They were going to retrieve a fragment of Wuuthrad from Dustman's Cairn. 

Farkas found her in the mead hall, speaking with Athis. They were speaking about daggers when he reached them. Her eyes were so intensely focused on him as he explained the task before them. Some may have found it unnerving, but to Farkas it was arousing. Not many people paid attention to him unless he was instructing training. She looked at him as if every word he spoke was needed for her survival. 

“I’ll be ready first thing,” she replied as he finished his explanation. 

“Aye,” he nodded. 

Farkas stood there a moment longer, her eyes still studying his. He wanted to speak more, to keep her attention on him longer but he was at a loss again. His brain failed to find words. He turned and made his way to his living quarters, trying to shake the feeling of stupidity and embarrassment. It was easy when he was in a tavern, he only needed to get a wench’s attention and toss some coin. Then they were bouncing on top of him until he completed and went their separate ways. Pengredhel was not a wench though. He knew he would have to be more delicate in his approach. Still, where his mind failed to form words it managed to create images. Images of her naked under him, those intense eyes focused on him. Then her on top of him, her small breasts bouncing at the force he thrust into her with. He took himself in hand that night, hoping it would clear his head for the next day. 

…

Pengredhel made short work of the draugers they faced in the cairn. She had him surprised as she was faster than Athis with her daggers. They were just simple iron ones, yet she was striking with enough momentum to break bone. She made no remarks as she finished the last one. Pengredhel also didn’t speak much on the way there. Farkas thought she was pretty similar to him in that regard. Only speaking when needed or spoken to. 

Their shared personality made it harder for him to get close to her. He felt awkward just making small talk, but he wanted all the information that comes with it. Pengredhel pushed in the hall and held a hand up to Farkas. He watched as she crouched down and drew her bow, notching an arrow. Then she took a deep breath and let it fly. He could hear the skeleton hit the ground. 

Farkas was learning quickly that she was a force to be reckoned with. He thought Vilkas must have had his ass handed to him because he underestimated her. In truth, Farkas didn’t want to be at the end of her blades. He felt that he would win the fight, but it would be a damn close call. 

“There must be a lever here to unlock that gate,” Pengredhel spoke to Farkas. 

He was so busy thinking about sparring with her that he hadn’t realized she had been talking. He grunted in response, standing in the middle of the round space to look for anything that resembled a lever or button. Pengredhel announced finding a lever and proceeded to pull it. It was a good thing that Farkas was not in the space with her, as metal bars dropped down and trapt her. 

“Oops,” she said. 

Farkas could smell her fear again, but assured her he would find the release. Before he did though, he could pick up the scent and sound of others approaching them. Five people rushed from the previous barred area, all of them with silver weapons. They threatened to skin him alive and share their boastful tales of killing him. Farkas didn’t want to let his beast out in front of Pengredhel, but he had no choice. He was a great warrior, but one too many hits from silver blades would have him bleeding out. 

Regretfully, he let his beast out. He howled as his bones broke and refused, elongating his limbs. He gained height and muscle mass, along with a thick covering of fur. He could hear Pengredhel gasp as he swung his claws out, ripping a couple people in half. The next swing got the other three. It was a bloodbath and the silver hand stood no chance against his wolf. Not wanting to turn to face what he was sure was a startled expression on the new blood, he made a dash for the release. 

A few minutes later he was back into her view, in his skin and normal steel armor. Pengredhel’s fear was overwhelming now. Farkas sighed, knowing that she had every right to be scared of him now. He was hoping to have won some affection from her before exposing his secret. Something to have earned to soften the blow. Alas, here he was. 

“It’s okay,” he approached her slowly like one would do a wild animal, “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

“You’re a fucking werewolf,” she replied, her hands still tight on her blade. 

“Aye, but I’m not going to hurt you,” he assured her. 

He could sense her fear wavering, “How many of the Companions are like you?” 

“Just the circle members and we keep it a secret from the others,” he explained. 

She had no more questions as he bridged the gap and embraced her. Farkas was hoping it would calm her and ease the fear, but it was doing something markedly different. He could smell some arousal coming from her. It was sweet, like snowberries with a musky earth undertone. Farkas grew hard. Between that smell and the adrenaline still coursing through him, he was easily excitable. 

“Let’s just go get those shards,” Pengredhel pulled away from him and started leading the way. 

...

When they returned to Jorrvaskr where she was officially brought into their ranks. Farkas had vouched for her honor in front of everyone and he was happy to do it. He was happy to do much more for her, but he wasn’t sure she would want him. She had seen him as a beast and he feared that that would be all she could see. 

Pengredhel was silent as she took a seat in the corner, mulling over a tankard of honey-mead. Farkas thought it odd that the feast tonight was for her, but she seemed uninterested in the celebration. He knew it had to do with their secret, so he felt he needed to speak with her about it. He wasn’t sure what to say, but he still moved toward her. 

She watched him cautiously, her eyes more intense than before. He sat down in front of her, taking a gulp of his own mead before speaking, “I hope you’re enjoying the celebration. It’s all for you.” 

She tilted her head a bit, “I am, thank you.” 

“I also hope,” Farkas awkwardly rubbed the back of his head, “I hope that I didn’t scare you too much. I’d like it if you stayed.” 

“You want me to stay?” She questioned. 

“You’re a good warrior,” he said, leaving out the part about wanting to bed her. 

“Is that all?” Farkas felt like he sensed disappointment in her tone. 

He was taken aback, “No. I-I also want to know you better.” 

“Why is that,” she pressed. 

“You sure ask a lot of questions,” he chuckled nervously, “I won’t lie. I like you.” 

“Like me?” She narrowed her eyes in suspicion for a moment before opening them back up, “As in you’re interested in me...romantically?” 

Farkas smiled at that, “Aye. And you?” 

“Aye,” she surprised him. 

“Want to go to my room?” He offered. 

“Aye,” she repeated, following him down the stairs. 

Farkas locked the door behind them as Pengredhel looked around the room. He was glad that he kept his space neat, hoping to impress her. She ran a hand across the bar counter. 

“This is nice,” she complimented. 

“Thank you,” Farkas moved toward her hesitantly. 

She gave him a smile that told him this wasn’t her first time, which didn’t matter to Farkas. Farkas wasn’t quite sure how to start and felt like a whelp about to fuck for the first time. Thankfully for him, the wood elf was experienced and straightforward. She jumped up on the bar, knocking some empty tankards to the floor. Using a curled finger, she beckoned him over. 

Farkas was between her legs, which were now wrapped around them as their lips locked. He put a hand on the back of her head to keep her pulled into him. His hand took up almost all of her head. Pengredhel’s tongue darted between them, making Farkas’ already hard member ache for attention. She seemed to have picked up on it, reaching a hand down and into his trousers. Farkas thanked himself silently for not wearing any armor. 

“Take me on the bed,” She wasn’t asking. 

“Aye,” Farkas grabbed her by the rear and walked them both to the bed.

The elf felt nearly weightless in his arms. Waves of that earthy, snowberry sweetness rolled from her. Farkas felt intoxicated. His wolf wanted to make her his, nipping at her jawline and neck. Pengredhel mewled under him, her hands tugging at his tunic. Farkas reluctantly sat up to remove his tunic as she did the same. Next came their trousers and small clothes. 

Farkas took a moment to just appreciate her frame. Not childlike, but definitely small. Her breasts were bigger than he thought as they escaped her breast band. He looked at the honey, sunkissed skin covering her tight abs and lean muscles. She was perfect in his eyes. 

Pengredhel grew very hot under his intense appraisal, moving herself to sit up and take his length in her hands. Farkas was a big man, but seeing himself in her delicate hands made him look like a giant. After a few strokes and a pleased groan from the man, she took him in her mouth. Pengredhel strained trying to open wide enough for his girth, jaw protesting as she got her lips around him. Farkas didn’t move, not wanting to hurt her. 

He watched as inch by inch of him disappeared in her mouth until he hit her throat. Between the warm moisture and the visual, Farkas couldn’t hold back a few thrusts. Pengredhel didn’t mind, gagging on him but liking it. She liked to feel tiny, helpless, and slightly in pain in the bedroom. Farkas felt himself getting close, so he pulled out of her and pressed on her shoulders. 

“No,” Pengredhel swatted his hand away, “You lay down first.” 

Farkas grunted and did as he was told. He loved to be ordered around in the bedroom, it made things easier. It meant he didn’t have to think about what to do next. His breath caught in his throat as she positioned herself over him and began to work his head into her. She was very wet but also very tight. Farkas wasn’t sure he could fit in at all. Pengredhel seemed determined to make it work, so he didn’t stop her. The look of concentration on her face made him twitch. Something about those big eyes drove him mad. 

Pengredhel moaned shamelessly as his head finally pushed into her. Farkas met her cries in earnest as she worked herself down his length by rocking back and forth. He didn’t know how it possibly worked, but he was hilted in her. Farkas never felt anything like this. He felt like he was simultaneously ripping her in half while getting his cock squeezed. 

He put his large hands on her waists, pulling and pushing to match her pace. Just as she was quick in battle, she was quicker in bed. She rode him, rolling her hips and switching directions to keep him on his toes. Farkas was gripping her tightly enough that she was bruising. He panicked for a moment when he saw, but she just laughed and leaned down to plant a kiss on his lips. 

The change in position had his wolf itching to take over. After a few more rolls of her hips, he did. Farkas flipped them, pushing the wood elf into the bed harshly as he took over the thrusting. She arched her back to give him the best position and angle to get all of himself to fit. Her hands clung on his neck for purchase to keep herself from slamming her head against the stone wall. Farkas brought his mouth down to her neck, burrowing his face to her. Her sweat heightened her smell and assaulted Farkas’ nose in the best way. 

Pengredhel repeated his name, growing desperate for her release. Farkas managed to rut into her even harder and quicker, feeling close to his own release. She let out a moan that he was sure their shield siblings could hear upstairs, her walls closing in on him. Her climax was strong enough to trap him inside her when he tried to pull out. Farkas wasn’t upset about it, enjoying emptying his seed in her. She seemed pleased about it too, her mouth loose and eyes half lidded. 

Farkas stayed in her until he softened. Grabbing a clean cloth, he wiped himself and helped her clean herself. He liked the way his seed flowed out of her, like the icing on a sweet roll. That’s what he would think of her as. A delicious sweet roll. 

Farkas reached for his clothes when she interrupted him, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

He raised a brow, “What should I be doing?” 

“Getting back over here. I didn’t say we were done,” she smiled at him mischievously. 

Farkas hadn’t moved faster in his life than he did in that moment. He planned to savor this sweet roll all night long.


End file.
